


Maybe it wasn't Aliens

by certainlyjim



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt!Jim, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg, Post Star Trek: Into Darkness, Star Trek: Into Darkness Spoilers, mpreg!jim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 07:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/certainlyjim/pseuds/certainlyjim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim gets knocked up, but because the universe likes to make things difficult, he's giving birth in two months, not nine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe it wasn't Aliens

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: un'beta'd  
> apologies in advance for the bad porn i just broke my porn virginity even tho its just sorta-porn imreallyreallysrr y

Spock has been standing to the side of the Captain's chair for forty five point six minutes, one hand resting on the chair’s armrest, periodically giving his permission to begin another scan of the pink atmosphere of the planet the Enterprise commenced orbiting two hours and twelve minutes ago. The bridge is quiet under his command as acting-Captain, the heavy silence interrupted by the alerts of the individual stations. To his left the lift opens and an ensign, one of thirty five that have come to the bridge, stumbles into the silent bridge, before jogging over to the comm station. Lieutenant Uhura takes her attention from her station to join the conversation initiated by the ensign; and Spock hears mentions of rebooting the coil system of deck D.

Spock looks back towards the view screen, skims the data filing through it and his grip on the chair tightens. The fifteenth scan for the Captain’s signal has been a failure. In seven point three minutes another request for a high depth scan will be sent directly to the Captain’s chair, directly because the enterprise is in yellow alert; the klaxon, a silent yellow.

Two hours ago, an away team was called to Transport Room B: two security personnel; five geologists; one botanist; and one Captain, armed with a single phaser. The planet showed no signs of intelligent life, a minimum of large fuana, a plethora of rock strata, and vegetation. If after the away team concluded their surveys, and returned safely, the planet was to be considered for shore leave of which the Enterprise was granted twelve hours ago. Captain Kirk is never one to let another do a job he is capable of finishing himself, and the only one who was not beamed back aboard forty five minutes ago.

Spock takes a breathe, watches Ensign Chekhov’s finger blur over his station; he has been directly connected to Transport room B since the announcement of the Captain’s disappearance, significant because all members of the away team were locked upon beam up, yet only eight stabilized on the transport pad. Lieutenant Commander Scott is unable to assist Ensign Chekov because, he is temporally in the confines of the Jefferey tubes, seeking malfunctioning wires that have a high probability of not existing.

Spock presses the screen on the armrest, and another scan begins.

Spock does not close his eyes, but neither is he actively giving attention to the results of the ongoing scan. His mind is as silent as the bridge, however it should not be. As his eyes read the scan read out, he also reaches for the bonds he shares with his close relations. His father's paternal bond is bright— reachable, communication is achievable, it is not withered away, dead, inactive. Spock takes another breath, his bondmate’s is none of these things. The mantra of Jim’s name is mentally loud, as he mentally palms the bond, bright under his touch, and dull beyond his mind— where Jim is— has been, not quiet like it currently is, always there, bright, warm, caring. Spock does not like this quiet, alone in a mind accustomed to another, Jim is never quiet, never absolutely still like this—

jimjimjimjimjimjimjimplease—

He knows Jim is living, the whiplash of a broken bond is not upon him; therefore, Jim lives.

The explanation of Jim’s unresponsiveness can only be attributed to a loss of consciousness, because Jim is nearly psy-null, he would not be able to control the bond in unconscious. Spock sees the logic in his explanation, as he also sees the highly emotive thoughts that thwart more sound reasoning. For this reason, _seeing_ his own incapability, he is not emotionally compromised. He told the Dr. McCoy as much, when his brooding self made an appearance on the bridge ten minutes after the away team was cleared, minutes after he was finished clearing them.

Spock believes that Dr. McCoy concession in allowing him to retain command capabilities, is because of missed place emotions that he harbors in reference to the fact that under Federation law he is Jim’s husband.

Spock presses the screen button again, and another scan begins.

Spock thinks that Jim would have said Dr. McCoy felt pity, but Spock also thinks Dr. McCoy is equally emotionally compromised. The Enterprise cannot be without three of her command team.

Spock does not turn, “Lieutenant Uhura, has Starfleet Command responded.”

There is no question here to make inquiry, and yet he cannot be silent in his command. If he has learned anything from the Captain, it is that silence is a brood of insecurity and lack of trust by the crew in their Captain. He will not appear weak, will not compromise this crew, molded into a powerhouse, pride of the ‘fleet.

“No, sir. It should have reached their subspace communications by now.” she responds, he hears her swift fingers flick through all channels, before she turns to him.

“Understood, send it twice more, Lieutenant; once through Subspace channel C, once through Subspace channel F. Inform me of any change.”

“Yes, Sir.”

His mind is dull without Jim, a mind that is in need of another because it has grown accustomed, and he reaches for Jim again, and is unable to—

jimpleasepleasewakeupineedyoutowakeplease—

“Lieutenant 0718, is Mr. Scott still attempting to find faulty wiring within the Jefferey tubes?”

He answers after a .5 second communication with the ship, “Negative Sir, ship comm signals put him in transpor—”

A ping from the frontal processor, the bridge explodes into unified action—

“Captain, the last scan hasn't—”

Spock gives permission for another scan.

‘— sir, sensor probes have pi—”

The signal needs to clarified.

‘— transport technician requesti—”

Spock turns on ship wide communications, “This is acting-Captain Spock, Mr. Scott you are required to return to Transport room B, Spock out.”

‘— Captain’s! the signal is weak, yes, but see—”

Spock moves, coming to the side of Ensign Chekov, who in his excitement is no longer sitting, “You are certain of this.”

“Aye, Captain, is not strong, you see,” he points to his station, and Spock leans in to read the scrolling data, “constant signal.”

“Will Mr. Scott be able to ascertain the signal.” Spock’s fingers slide across the screen, magnifying the location of the signal.

“Da, however—”

The signal is no longer in the same location and Spock zooms out, “The signal is moving.”

Ensign Chekov nods, “Yes moving, Captain— precisely, it is bouncing. I have not yet figured out why.”

“Very well, you will join Mr. Scott in his attempts to stabilize the signal.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

Ensign Chekov is sitting before Spock turns back towards the vacant Captain’s chair. Captain Kirk's signal being erratic, it is also not on the planet’s surface. Spock picks up his discarded padd and ties into Mr. Scott’s and Mr. Chekov’s cooperation attempts. The signal is too high for a human to survive without a spacesuit, Captain Kirk was not wearing a spacesuit upon his initial beam down. Spock does not understand.

It is fact that Captain Kirk is alive, but the conclusions drawn from the provided data, do not come to that conclusion. But, he is alive.

It is six point three minutes later, the bridge is tense in all departments, Mr. Chekov spins in his chair.

“Captain, we have got the signal! Mr. Scott is now calibrating—”

Spock’s padd falls to his side, "Have Mr. Scott beam the Captain directly to sick bay."

Spock takes out his comm, “Spock to Dr. McCoy.”

There is static, "—t, Spock you find him?”

“Dr. McCoy clear the far room, Mr. Scott will be beaming directly into sickbay in…”

Chekov spins to face him again, “Three minutes and counting, Captain.”

“Approximately three minutes.”

“Shit— dammit, Spock, fine. It’ll be done— McCoy out.” there is static.

Spock turns the dial, “Mr. Giotto, Spock here. Security team three is requested in sickbay.”

“Yes, sir!” Mr. Giotto says, deep voice scratched by static.

Spock re-attaches his comm unit to his waist band. He is going to sickbay, Jim is too quiet, he is alive but there is something—

He walks to the lift, “Mr, Sulu, you have the conn.”

He is in the lift, the doors are sliding closed as he hears an affirmative answer.

His hands clasp the padd behind him, and he listens to the hum of the lift, until it opens, and he is not running. He is walking, walking to Jim, Jim who is too quiet. It is entirely unnecessary to run to sickbay, three minutes have not passed, and he finds his strides longer, he is jogging to Jim. He passes rec room 3D, empty, lights dim. His mind is empty, it is dim, Jim is alive. He slides to a stop in front of the sick bay, doors slide open, padd at his side, gripping tight.

Dr. McCoy whips around to him, “Spock! It’s not—”

Three minutes have passed.

The high frequency of a transport beam fills the room and Spock is standing next to Dr. McCoy, who is facing the far room. It is bright, and then it is dark, and Captain Kirk’s body is here, back on his ship, and Spock’s mind is still dark.

Spock steps forward, must go to Jim, because Jim is alive, he is back, within reach— and is restrained by Dr. McCoy’s arm.

“Doctor.”

“Don't give me that, Spock,” Dr. McCoy says, arm not falling, as Spock presses forwards—

jimjimwhyjim— "Don’t make me use Giotto.”

Dr. McCoy jerks his chin behind Spock, and there is security, because Spock called them. He did not call them to impede, the situation is unprecedented, he must go to Jim. He hooks his fingers over Dr. McCoy’s arm, still pressing to his chest.

“Spock.” a warning.

But Captain Kirk is lying on his side, facing away from them, head resting on a thrown arm, the other resting half over the side of his stomach. Spock sees his frame move with breath, because Captain Kirk is alive.

“I shall remain stationary.” his arm falls.

Dr. McCoy’s other hand is twitching with a tricorder, squinting at him, “Fine, I’ll get a scan in, and then you swoop in— only when I say everything's well and good. We clear, Spock?”

“We are clear, Doctor.”

Dr. McCoy continues squinting, before glancing at security behind Spock and turning his back to them.

He slowly circles the Captain, the whirring of the tricorder stuttering on and off, as he inches forwards. Muttering to himself with a frown, flicking the tricorder, before he crouches over the Captain.

He runs the tricorder the length of Captain Lirk's collapsed body once, pokes it, and reaches for the wrist resting over captain kirk.

“Okay, no injures; stable vitals." he says, drops the wrist and looks up at Spock, “You can come now, Spock.”

Spock does, “Doctor,  your unpleasant tone appears to be at odds with your intended comfort.”

He crouches on the opposite side of Captain Kirk and places his padd to the side, and Dr. McCoy scoffs as Spock puts his hand on Captain Kirk’s arm, “It is safe to move him?”

“Mm, might as well.” Dr. McCoy says, reaches a hand to Captain Kirk’s leg. Spock tightens his grip on the Captain Kirk’s arm, stares at Dr. McCoy’s hand, “Slowly now, Spock. That’s it, Jimmy— hold his neck steady, Spock.”

Spock slides his right under Captain Kirk’s neck, keeping it from lolling to the side and they lay him flat on his back. Spock draws his hand away, thumb skirting the captain’s meld points—

and nothingnothingnothingwheresthesparkjimjimpleasejim—

He lets his hand fall, elbow resting on his thigh. Captain Kirk is in front of him, lying unconscious; however, Spock cannot see him, his mind is dark. His hand curls on his thigh.

Dr. McCoy’s hand leaves the Captain’s leg, and he brings his other hand to cup around his mouth, shouting, “Chapel! Bring a stretcher on over, you hear!”

Nurse Chapel’s shout back is indiscernible, “Doctor, your propensity towards ill mannerisms is untoward.”

“Only when your elf ears get involved.” Dr. McCoy says, and scans Captain Kirk twice in succession.

“I assure you, Doc—”

“Yeah, yeah, Spock,” Dr. McCoy’s mouth twists up, an odd approximation of held in laughter, “Chapel’s here, lets get ‘im up.”

Nurse Chapel and the Doctor situate the stretcher between Dr. McCoy and Captain Kirk. Dr. McCoy orders Nurse Chapel to hold the Captain’s feet and legs, and Spock to secure his head and neck, as he grabs the scruffs of the Captain’s uniform at his shoulders.

Spock's fingers slid over the skin on the back of Captain’s Kirk neck, dry hair pricking his hands, and his thumbs rub softly over the Captain’s cheeks— nothingnothingnothingas if he is not in direct bodily contact, yet Jim is alive; pulse pressing against his wrist as Dr. McCoy counts down from three, before they lift and pull the Captain onto the stretcher.

Nurse Chapel repowers the stretcher away from the floor and  makes her way past Spock and Dr. McCoy.

“Whoo, okay. Chapel give him 5 ccs of that stuff I keep in my office.” Dr. McCoy says, arm curled around himself, the other resting on it as he taps his tricorder against his lips.

Spock picks up his padd, and steps close, “Were there indications for his unconsciousness, Doctor.”

His frown deepens, and he stops tapping his tricorder, “Not a one, Spock. He should be up like a damn spring chicken.”

“I see.”

“You fool liar. Well,” Dr. McCoy says, walks over to the stretcher hovering by an empty bio-bed, and points his tricorder at the life monitoring systems, “See here, he's got himself a low grade fever, but there’s nothing to account for it. And here, estrogen levels are elevated, too.”

Spock steps around to the opposite side of the bed and Dr. McCoy pushes the stretcher over it. Spock looks over his scrunched shoulders to Nurse Chapel who is exiting Dr. McCoy’s office, with a medical tray in hand.

“Here you are, Dr. McCoy.” she says, sliding the empty tray under her arm, nodding to Spock and stepping away.

“Thank ya, Chapel. Stand by.” Dr. McCoy presses the hypospray into Captain Kirk’s neck.

Captain Kirk does not flinch. Does not theatrically react in any way, and Spock’s grip tightens on the padd. Captain Kirk is alive, the movement of his chest, the thrum of the mechanical heart beat, not his unnatural stillness and quiet, makes this fact irrefutable.

“Should be stirrin’ any time now.” Dr. McCoy says, checks the Captain’s pulse for the second time.

They wait together, Dr. McCoy staring at the bio-bed readings and Spock’s head tilted down. Spock sees the Captain’s brows furrow, the same instance that Dr. McCoy announces his heart rate has increased.

Spock hears Dr. McCoy shift, and sees eyes open, “Hey… Spock.”

nothingnothingnothingwhywhy, “Captain.”

Captain Kirk smiles softly up at him, blue eyes hazy from unconsciousness.

“None of that,” Dr. McCoy says, poking the Captain in the shoulder with his tricorder, “Damn idiot, Jim; what’dya do.”

Captain Kirk moves his clearing eyes over to Dr. McCoy, frowns, “I didn't—  aw, Bones, come o— Spock! Spock, tell ‘im.”

Spock glances between them, “Dr. McCoy, it appears the Captain is unaware, of any actions taken on his part that would have impacted the transporter malfunction.”

Dr. McCoy frowns at both of them, “Don't mean a darn thing, Spock; its Jim Kirk, here, a kitten could set him off!”

“That was—”

“Be that as it may, Doctor, Mr. Scott has yet to bring forth evidence that contradicts anything other than minor transport error.”

"Hey!”

“Or that the universe hates Jim Kirk.” Dr. McCoy says, arms crossing, still frowning.

“Guys!” Captain Kirk says, sits up in the bed, “Why’m I in sickbay?”

Dr. McCoy is glaring at Spock, so Spock, “What is the last you remember, Captain.”

“Uh, comming Ensign… Jones in the transport room, for beam up? Why?’ Captain Kirk asks, twitching away from Dr. McCoy when he begins scanning him.

Captain Kirk glances up to Dr. McCoy, eyes wide, because Dr. McCoy is levels above frowning, “It’s been almost an hour, Jim. An hour since you signaled beam up.”

Captain Kirk mouths Dr. McCoy’s words, “Holy shi—”

“Indeed, Captain—”

“You're sure you didn't pick up any rock dust, Jim, touch anything?”  Dr. McCoy eyes the read out on his tricorder and the biobed’s.

“Dammit, Bones! I didn't!” Captain Kirk insists, leaning away from the hypospray in Dr. McCoy’s hand, shoulder nudging into Spock.

Spock’s hand curls around the Captain’s other shoulder, “Oh, hey, Spock.”

There is nothing, his grip tightens and he feels nothing from Jim, who stares up at him with a smile. So much nothing, it is as if he is no longer capable of touch telepathy, but lowering his shields brings the brunt of Dr. McCoy’s broadcastings of—

angerangerworrywhyalmostmayebneverseehimagainworrywhywhy— Spock closes his eyes, drops his hand from Captain Kirk’s shoulder.

“Spock?”

“I shall return to the bridge, Captain. Dr. McCoy.” Spock says and turns.

“Wait!” Captain Kirk raises his voice behind Spock, “Spock, wait for me!”

Spock pauses and turns again in time to see Dr. McCoy lunge for the Captain who is reaching out for spock, half out of bed, “No, you're not! You're stayin’ right here.”

Dr. McCoy gets his hands on Captain Kirk’s shoulders and shoves him down, leans menacingly close over him, “Medical leave 'till I damn well say so, Captain.”

“Gentlemen, I shall—”

Captain Kirk shoves ineffectually at Dr. McCoy, strains his neck to peak over, “Negative, Commander, you will wait.”

Captain Kirk drops back into his pillow, “Bones, I'm not even hurt!”

“One hour.”

“But. I’m. Good.”

“A whole hour, Jim." wherein it was a high possibility the Enterprise had once again, permanently lost her Captain.

Spock is of the opinion that Captain Kirk would be better served recuperating on the bridge, within sight of multiple persons whom would gladly make certain he does not strain, and subsequently overwork, himself and be returned to sickbay, to a wrathful Dr. McCoy.

“I'm still on shift, Bones. I’ll drop by after, kay?”

They continue their stare off for thirty five seconds, before Dr. McCoy reluctantly releases his hold by throwing his hands in the air, “Fine. I’ll track you down at 1500, Jim, don't think I won’t.”

“Aw, thanks, Bones.” Captain Kirk says, and slips out of the bed. He lists slightly, grabbing onto the bed, and smiles at Dr. McCoy’s preemptive reflex to catch him, “‘is just from sitting so long.”

“Whatever, get the hell out, if you're not gonna be a good patient.”

“Right.” Captain Kirk says and begins walking towards Spock, “See ya later, Bones.”

Captain Kirk and he exit to low grumbles from the Dr. McCoy, sick bay doors sliding closed behind them.

Captain Kirk scratches his chest through his uniform, “I'mma head to quarters, sonic, and change, Spock.”

“You are fatigued?” Spock asks, he cannot sense, he cannot feel jim, there is nothing there, he is empty.

They stop in front of the turbolift, waiting for it to come to their deck, “No, just feel gross. It was windy down there— dusty too, got dirt in places.”

The turbolift chymes as it opens, and they step in, “Officer's quarters.”

Spock takes the handle-stabilizers in hand, and Captain Kirk bumps their shoulders together. He does not readjust himself, but leans heavier.

“You're quiet,” Spock feels the light touch of passing hand on his back, and he nods.

Captain Kirk steps in front of him, reaches out and stops the turbolift.

“Captain—”

Captain Kirk turns to him, and slouches against him, arms curling around him. Fingers smoothing over his clasped hands, breathes against him, “The Captain doesn't do this, Spock.”

“Jim—”  Jim’s hands travel upwards, skating over Spock’s shoulders blades, tug at his collar. Sucks at Spock where shoulder meets neck.

Spock's hands tighten against each other, and Jim is right against him, a knee between legs. Jim’s hands stop, one dropping to his waist, dipping under his shirt, skirt against him, involuntary muscle movement, and Spock feels Jim's smirk against his skin.

He does not feel. Here is Jim touching him, warm against him, and he is alone. He does not understand why.

Jim’s lips leave his skin, and he is looking at him, “You don't have to be worried anymore, Spock. I'm back.”

Distress is something Spock has become comfortable with, over the two years of the five year mission. Distress is something that can have a source that changes, a source that multiplies and becomes a burden, before it is resolved, and the weight lifts. His source is always Jim Kirk; now, it is their bond that should never be silenced, silent in his mind.

“Jim, your timing is not fueled by logic.”

Jim tries to move him up against the wall, Spock stands his ground, “I missed you.”

“You wer—" Jim's nose brushes against his cheek, teeth gentle over his jaw, tongue sweeps up to his ear, and Jim hums at him to continue, hand under his uniform, resting at his breast, “Unconscious, and not aware of the passage of time.”

Spock feels the steady rush of heat and blood to his face and below, however, he will not cooperate with Jim in his endeavors, in the turbolift.

Jim’s nails drag over his breast, and he teases the side of Spock's mouth, “Mm, you know why I wanna do this, Spock.”

He is alone, empty, their bond all but broken, all but unbonded, he cannot sense Jim’s desires. He tries, tries, tries— an unbreakable wall is separation he cannot break. And Jim, Jim who has to make effort to feel him, would not notice the absence.

“I will not participate.” Jim's tongue laps at his firmly closed lips, his breath ghosting over Spock’s skin, nose bumping purposefully against Spock’s.

“I won't leave you, again,” Jim says, cheek to resting against his, exhalations tickling hair around his ear, “You don't have to be scare—”

Spock's hands break out, padd clattering behind them, as he rushes Jim, moving them to the opposite side of the turbolift. He has had enough, Jim will discontinue encouraging these illicit reactions of his, in the turbolift.

He holds him by the shoulders, pressing his groin up against Jim’s thigh, “I was not frightened, Jim.”

Jim’s hands are at his side, scrunching his uniform up, and he grinds up, “I know, Spock. I know.”

Jim’s head falls back, hitting the turbolift doors, groans when Spock latches his fingers onto Jim’s meld points, pushes into Spock’s hand.

Spock leans in, mouths at the corner of blushed lips, other hand working quick through Jim’s pants, feels the hard bulge through them. Moves down Jim's neck, left hand playing a nipple, and Jim's breath hitches, and groans.

“‘m‘ere.” Spock feels Jim’s hand pushing at his head, pulling at hair.

Jim’s licks his lips, smirking, and Spock comes. They kiss, mouths wet and hot, breath puffing past. Spock pulls at his lip, tasting Jim, stale from an hour unconscious and unaccounted for. Jim’s hands hold Spock’ s face, eyes closed to the kiss, head tilted, tongue slick over Spock’s teeth and tongue.

Spock breaks from Jim, resting against his forehead, licks his swollen lips, watches Jim watch him lick. Sees Jim lick his own. Spock brings his thumb down and wipes their spit from Jim’s lip. Jim tries to bring it past his lips and suck at it.

“Why’d we stop?” Jim breathes, chest heaving, genuinely confused.

Spock reaches past him and reengages the turbolift, it begins humming around them, “As I said, Jim, I will not participate.”

Spock pulls his uniform back into place, combing fingers through his hair.

Jim is still propped up by the turbolift doors, a ruddy blush over him, “What— but—but, I have a hard on!"

Spock bends and picks up his padd, inspects it, “Indeed, you do.”

Spock looks up to the deck-counter, and Jim turns and follows his eyes, “ _Shit_.”

He jumps off the doors and stuffs himself away, zipper loud in the small turbolift. Agitatedly musses his hair with both hands and jumps twice.

“Shit, Spock, you're a mean sonuva bitch, you know that?”

“Only when you refuse to listen.”

Jim glares at him, and adjusts himself. The turbolift stops and chymes open, the computer announcing officers quarters; where, similar to sick bay’s deck, it is empty of crew.

“I will see you on the bridge, Captain.”

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: this exploded in my face, it wasnt supposed to be this long, which is why i decided to post it rn. this is one big train wreck and it took my guts to write 'nipple'  
> if u think the rating isnt right just say so idk if this should be gen or not???  
> are the monikers too much? i was trying to get the line that spock draws between work and his personal life, but... i dont think i got it
> 
> also i havnt given up on 'there in the end' either so dont worry  
> 


End file.
